Not For Sale
by HarmonyLover
Summary: After his fight with Sam in the choir room, Blaine talks to Kurt and realizes that sometimes, all it takes to understand someone else is a change in perspective. One-shot.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of _Glee_; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: **Another short one-shot, showing what might have happened after Blaine and Sam's fight in the choir room during "Hold On To Sixteen." Many thanks to WickedforGood13 for the advance read and beta.

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><p><strong>Not For Sale<strong>

"_Of course you would think that. You have to think that so you can sleep at night."_

"_What does that mean?"_

"_It means I am not for sale."_

Those words had replayed themselves over and over as Kurt watched Blaine storm out of the choir room, as he watched Finn follow his boyfriend out, as he finished rehearsal with unease and unhappiness gnawing at him. As soon as Mr. Schue had dismissed them, Kurt made his way to the locker room, where he was fairly certain he would find Blaine.

Kurt shuddered a little bit as he entered, but the painful memories of Karofsky had faded now, muted with sadness and compassion for his confused classmate and overlaid with the happy memories of his relationship with Blaine, the strength and sureness of their love for each other.

His boyfriend was standing in front of one of the lockers, hair freshly washed, obviously having just showered and changed. Blaine turned his head as he heard Kurt enter.

"Hey," Kurt said quietly, walking up to Blaine and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Hey," Blaine sighed, letting his head relax into Kurt's shoulder. "How did the rest of practice go?"

"As well as could be expected with both you and Finn gone," Kurt replied. "I wasn't really paying attention." He reached one hand up to the nape of Blaine's neck, tangling his fingers in the soft hair there, kneading gently. "I was a little too worried, to be honest."

Blaine tightened his grip around Kurt's waist. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Kurt chided him gently. "I knew that you would probably come here, and I knew you needed your space for a little while – though the same cannot be said of my clueless stepbrother," he said dryly, but Blaine could still hear the affection there. "Did you and Finn manage to avoid coming to blows?"

"We did," Blaine responded. "That – that actually went really, really well."

"Did he explain why he's been acting like a complete jerk for the past three months?" Kurt frowned. "I kept hoping it would work itself out, but I was about ready to deck him myself for the way he was treating you."

Blaine chuckled, amused by the picture of Kurt trying to punch his giant stepbrother. "Believe it or not, he was jealous. It never occurred to me that he would be threatened by me, but he was. He really thought I would usurp his place in New Directions. I can't begin to do that – you all have too much history together for me to replace Finn, even if I wanted to. I would never want that, though. He's your brother – I just want to be his friend."

It was Kurt's turn to sigh. "Finn's had a hard time of it lately, getting rejected by Ohio State, having to reassess his dreams and decide what he wants to try for next. He knows Rachel is going after big dreams and will probably get them in the end – that's just the way Rachel is. I'm sure he has been trying to hold on to one thing he felt he was good at and could lead. It doesn't excuse what he did to you," Kurt continued, placing a kiss on Blaine's head, "but it does explain some of it. I'm glad that he could admit he's been unfair and unkind."

Blaine raised his head from Kurt's shoulder in order to look Kurt in the eyes. "He did, and I really think we'll be fine now, Kurt. He's a good guy, and we both want to do everything we can to help New Directions win Sectionals."

"I'm glad," Kurt said softly, stroking Blaine's cheek. "That's all Sam wants, too, you know."

Blaine's expression darkened again. "I know Sam is your friend, Kurt, and I know I was out of line in there, but I won't make myself feel cheap. I can't. Please tell me you understand that."

"I do," Kurt answered, more softly still. "Because every person who thinks being gay means being promiscuous, or being worthless, or being less than a human being – all of those people make us feel cheap. We have to remind ourselves every day that none of those things are true, and trying to win by playing into every bad thing ever said about us feels like a betrayal."

Blaine nodded. "It does. I love dancing as part of a performance, when it feels like I'm sharing something beautiful with the world and creating meaning with it. This – this doesn't feel like that. It feels as though I'm selling some part of myself, some part of _us_" – and here he clasped Kurt's hands, bringing them up to rest against his heart – "and it makes me sick."

Kurt leaned in and kissed him gently. "I love you for your sensitive soul, Blaine Anderson. I love that these things are so meaningful for you, and that you think about them with your heart first. You need to know something else, though, before you start judging Sam."

Kurt pulled Blaine down to the bench they were standing next to, still keeping their hands clasped as they sat. "When Rachel and Finn went to find Sam, they thought he was working in a dinner theater, or a high-end club that was a venue for a dinner theater. As it turned out, it was a relatively high end strip club. Sam had been working there to help his family pay the bills."

Blaine sucked in a breath, his eyes pained. "How do you know?"

"Rachel told me," Kurt said. "I know that you won't tell anyone. Remember last year, when I told you that Sam's family was living in a hotel and Quinn and I had been helping him?"

Blaine nodded, chagrin filling his features as the pieces started to fall together.

"Well, his father has work again, a construction job that's enough to pay their rent on a house," Kurt explained. "But it doesn't pay for all the food and clothes that Sam's siblings need, and Sam had lied to his parents about where the money was coming from. They thought he was just working a regular job at a Dairy Queen."

Blaine shook his head. "I had no idea," he said regretfully. "If that's what he was doing, then why would he – ?"

"Maybe to – to feel sexy because he wants to, and not because he has to?" Kurt suggested carefully. "I can't imagine that baring your body as a job makes you feel as though you're worth much, even if you're doing it to keep your family fed and clothed. I have no concept of what that is like for the adults who do it, but Sam is a teenager, Blaine, just like we are. Maybe the choreography is another way of trying to feel like himself again, and displaying his body in a way that makes him feel good."

Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt's, exhaling. "You're amazing. It's two sides of the same coin; he and I are just reacting differently to the same problem. I have to talk to him. I'll find him tomorrow."

"I knew you would," Kurt said approvingly. He raised their hands and kissed Blaine's knuckles. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Blaine murmured.

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><p>The next afternoon, Blaine arrived early for glee club, hoping he would find Sam there as well. The blonde wasn't in the choir classroom, so Blaine began wandering through the halls. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Sam standing at a locker, exchanging his bookbag for sheet music and a guitar.<p>

"Sam," Blaine said tentatively, approaching him. "Can I . . . talk to you for a second?"

Sam studied him for a minute, as though he was trying to decide whether or not he was sincere, but in the end he nodded, shutting his locker. "Go ahead."

"Sam, I was wrong to say what I did yesterday," Blaine said earnestly. "I lost my temper, and I'm really sorry for that. It's a sore spot for me. I know you know a little bit about what happened with Kurt last year – did he ever tell you that I'd been bullied, too?"

Sam shook his head, his expression shifting to something less hostile and more neutral. "No."

Blaine took a deep breath. "Before I went to Dalton, I was beaten up pretty badly for going to a Sadie Hawkins dance with another friend of mine who was gay. We both ended up in the hospital with some injuries. It was the culmination of several years of constant name-calling, shoving, punching, being locked into janitorial closets and threatened in bathrooms. I don't think I have to tell you what the names are."

"You don't," Sam said sympathetically, and it was more warmth than Blaine had heard yet. He latched onto it, because he _really_ wanted to fix this.

"It's just – when you hear that every day, and feel physically threatened every day, you have to fight to remember that your body is your own, that it is your right as a human being not to feel violated or threatened, and that no one should be able to tell you that your sexual preference makes you sexually available," Blaine said, his lips tightening in disgust and hurt. "I went to Dalton, I took up boxing, and I swore to myself that no one would make me feel that inferior ever again. I promised myself that I would never do anything to make myself feel that way. My sexuality is not for public consumption – not that my bullies ever understood that," he ended, a trifle bitterly. "I'm sorry, Sam. Yesterday brought back some bad memories, but that wasn't your fault, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I know that you wanted to help."

"I did, but I understand where you're coming from, and I respect that," Sam said. "Thank you for telling me." He paused, considering, and then stuck his hand out, smiling. "Friends?"

Blaine smiled back, the tension inside him unwinding, and shook. "Friends."

"Awesome," Sam grinned. "And Blaine," he went on, his expression turning serious again, "just so you know, if - when - the names ever happen here, I have your back. Yours and Kurt's. " He grimaced, acknowledging that, unfortunately, the names would happen, but it made Blaine feel immeasurably better to know that he had gained another ally, and hopefully, another friend here at McKinley.

Blaine nodded, trying to convey his gratitude. "Thank you. That means a lot."

Sam smiled again, a bit of his lightheartedness returning. "C'mon. Let's get to glee. And dude, I really have to ask – why do you never wear socks?"

Blaine laughed, and as the two of them walked toward the choir room, Blaine thought that maybe – just maybe – this year could have some magic in it after all.


End file.
